Chapter 8

  Reconnaissance

  “So remind me again how this is any better than all of us just sneakin’ in?” Arv muttered from behind his ‘new’ helm. It stank horribly, and he didn’t like the way it cut off his peripherals. The tattered winter cloak on his back wiggled and Neyra’s head peeked out of the fabric ever so slightly. She was clinging to his back with nothing but some belts and straps to hold on to. Just like the good old days, he supposed. She whispered in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear it,

  “They’re the only ones sneaking in. You need to walk in like you own the place. We go in first, Zarl’s following just behind to keep an eye on us, and the rest will follow him. And this way, even if we get caught, we stand a chance of gathering information before it all goes to shit.” Neyra’s grip on him tightened as he stepped over the threshold into the Estate’s courtyard. They were through the wall.

  “If you say so, sis. Wearing this filth had better be worth it.” Arv grunted. He swore that there was more than just stink radiating off of the soot black armor he wore. It was pure evil, and he couldn’t get out of it soon enough. He shook his head and gritted his teeth.

  “Just be ready with that lil' spell o’ yours, okay?”

  Arv heard Neyra give an affirmative little grunt as she tucked herself back into her hiding spot on his back. It felt strange having just one of the little ones back there. And after more than a week of wearing the Howdah, he felt naked without it. He furrowed his brows and hoped that Cretin wasn’t stretching the straps out while he carried it for him! He also hoped that Neyra really could do what she said.

  He was being silly. Of course she could do it. But would they buy it? What if they asked him to take off his helmet when he spoke? Fat lotta good a ‘ghostly sound’ would do them then. He cursed himself for not knowin’ enough orcish. Maybe Neyra could teach him? In any case, her speaking it with that spell of hers would have to be good enough. But if it wasn’t, Arv would have to cast his own kinda spell. It was the kinda spell that involved guts at the end of his trident.

  He made his way briskly through the courtyard, and he tried his best to walk as if he had places to be. The cold air was hazy with all the smoke, and he was thankful that Elwin had given them some basic instructions,

  Once you’re past the gate, head north until you come to the main building. Turn left at the main doors and hug the wall for about a hundred paces until you reach a set of double doors. That’s the kitchens. Start there and we can make use of the servants' corridors.

  Thankfully, Elwin had an excellent memory. And soon they stood in what was once surely an impressive kitchen. It had been completely ransacked, enough so that it was hard to even see the floors beneath his feet.

  “See anything interesting?” Neyra asked from behind his back.

  “No.”

  Arv frowned as he picked his way through the room. There was no blood to be found, only upturned crates and split barrels. He scanned the walls for anything of note, and paused when his eyes fell on a small door. “Wait, I think there’s something here.”

  He gingerly stepped towards the door, taking care not to send anything else clattering to the ground. It was unassuming, and almost too small for him to even fit through. Arv gave it a gentle push, and it swung inwards with a quiet creak. There was a small set of winding stairs that led up into darkness. He felt Neyra peek her head out again,

  “Must be the cook’s quarters,” she whispered as he stepped forward.

  Arv tightened his grip on his trident.

  “Let’s check it out. The others will be here soon.”

  Arv climbed, taking care to not squish his sister against the wall in the tight quarters. Soon, they reached a small landing and passed through one more door and into a room.

  The scent of carnage assaulted Arv’s nose as he ducked inside. He helped Neyra down from his back and the two of them searched. On the bed was the body of a man he assumed to be the cook. His chest was caved in, and his blood saturated the mattress below him. A woman lay nearby, her body slumped against the wall, her right arm severed at the shoulder. Arv watched Neyra approach each of the bodies and he was worried she might get sick. But all she did was place a gentle hand on each?. With a soft touch, she closed their lifeless eyes.

  It was just then that Arv’s ears twitched. Was that a…sneeze? He whipped his head around the room as Neyra did the same.

  “You heard that too?” She asked.

  Her long ponytail swished behind her back as she continued to look around. Arv nodded and tiptoed towards the source of the sound.

  There it was again! And this time he thought he caught where it was coming from. There was another door at the back wall of the room, and he woulda bet most anythin’ that it was the water closet. Arv crept forward, and as he did, he reached his hand down to his side, pushing his sister behind him with a big, green hand.

  “Hey!”

  “Shhh!” He whispered, giving his sister a warning look. She huffed up at him and gave him one of those classic Neyra glares in return.

  “I’m not completely helpless, you know.” She muttered. And soon Arv felt a slight buzzing of energy in the air. He looked down to see fuscia colored light glowing on her fingertips. Her hands hummed with an energy just waiting to be released. Arv just grunted at her and held his fingers up. He mouthed the words, three, two, one, and then he threw the door open.

  He sprang forward, trident in hand, ready to impale anything he found lurking within. But there was nothing. Neyra took a tentative step into the closet, her magically charged hand held up behind her head in anticipation of danger. Her head turned from side to side as she studied the tiny room. There was nothing but a small bench with a hole and lid. Arv watched his sister take a deep, bracing breath. And then she opened the lid. He leaned forward as she did so, craning his neck to peer down into the darkness. What he saw nearly made him jump out of his skin.

  Two small, tear-filled eyes were staring back up at him.

  “Gods above! Arv, quick!” Neyra scurried out of the way to let Arv squeeze into the tiny closet. He reached his hand down slowly, and the child flinched away in fear. With a start, he remembered what he was wearing. He cursed to himself and ripped the hellish helm off of his head.

  “Shhhh shhhh, it’s okay-it’s okay. I’m not one of them. I’m not gonna hurt ya.” He couldn’t do anything about the face he was born with, or the armor that he wore, but he tried his very best to make his voice soft and calm, “I’m just gonna get you outta there, okay?”

  Perhaps it was the way he spoke Common with a halfling accent, or how he gently smiled, but the little one finally relaxed a bit and nodded. Arv reached down and plucked the child up by the back of their shirt.

  The poor thing was shivering and covered with shit and grime from head to toe. Arv gingerly set the child on the ground in front of Neyra. His sister hurriedly chanted some of those funny words of hers, and in a flash, all the filth transfigured to smoke and drifted off of the tiny child. Now it was much easier to tell that the figure who stood trembling before them was a little human girl of no more than six or seven years. Her hair was pale blonde and hung in small ringlets that framed her round face. She wore a well crafted, albeit simple, dress and apron. She looked at Neyra curiously, head tilted slightly to one side. Arv figured perhaps the little lass had never seen a halfling before…or magic, for that matter.

  She took a tiny step back as Arv bent down on one knee. The little one was ‘bout the same size as Neyra, maybe even taller!

  “Shhhh, shhhh…” Neyra whispered soothingly, her hands up, “I–I’m sorry, I should have warned you. But we needed to get all of that off of ya.” She put her hand on Arv’s arm and continued to speak to the little girl slowly and deliberately, “This is Arv, and I’m Neyra. What’s your name?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Arv held his breath as the little girl’s pale eyes flicked back and forth between him and Neyra. The poor thing was terrified. But eventually she spoke,

  “M-m-Maren…” she squeaked. Then she cringed in fear as the sounds of voices and footsteps suddenly drifted into the room.

  “Arv? Neyra? You up here?”

  Just then, Shamil peeked her head into the room. Her eyebrows raised when she saw them crammed in the tiny closet. “Umm…Find anything interesting in the privy there?”

  “You could say that,” Arv said as he squeezed out of the closet door and back out into the main room. That left Shamil with a clear view of little Maren.

  “Bloody hells!”

  “What?! What is it, Shamil?” Elivera’s worried voice grew louder as she ran further up the stairs and into the room, “What’s wrong?”

  Elle looked frazzled as she took in her surroundings. Her eyes widened at the bodies and grew even wider still when she saw the child,

  “Oh, Gods!”

  Arv glanced over and noticed that Maren must have decided Neyra was the least threatening out of all of them. She clung tightly to his big sister with both of her hands. She whimpered softly as Neyra shot a glare at Shamil and Elle.

  “Shh! You’re scaring her!” Neyra turned around and smiled softly at Maren. “That’s Elivera, and that’s Shamil. We're here to help you, okay? Now, can you walk? Or would you like Arv to carry you? We have a healer downstairs who can help you if you’re hurt….”

  Neyra was interrupted by the sound of clattering footsteps coming from the doorway. And soon Elwin rushed inside.

  Her eyes were wide and frantic as she looked around the room. Arv felt a lurch of pity in his stomach as he laid his gaze on her. He remembered all too well how it felt to be in her shoes. She must have known these people.

  “Elwin!!” little Maren shrieked, and she ran out from behind Neyra.

  “Maren?!” Elwin exclaimed as the girl crashed into her. She caught her instinctively, wrapping her arms gently around her. The girl nuzzled her face into Elwin’s shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably into her cloak. Elwin looked completely dumbstruck, but Arv saw the relief that crept into her face as she smiled.

  “Shhh…shhhh…. it's okay, dear. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” Elwin turned to Arv and Neyra as she continued to stroke the child’s hair, “Where–where did you find her?”

  “The closet there, we found her just after findin…” Arv trailed off as he looked toward the bodies; Maren’s parents, no doubt. Elwin’s face contorted in grief as she followed his gaze. Then her eyes narrowed in fury.

  “She can’t stay here.” Elwin said. And she turned on her heel and marched down the stairs, the weeping child still held tight in her arms.

  ***

  “They attacked at dawn. Wolves. Fire. Black armored monsters. Her parents tried to barricade the door, but it didn’t hold long. Her…her mother hid her before rushing back out to help.” Elwin’s voice was strained as she recounted what she learned from Maren. Shamil felt her chest tighten as Elwin spoke. It brought back flashes of memories, memories she intended to keep locked down tight. The poor child was sleeping in the back of the Howdah now, which sat on the floor while Arv got his harness back on.

  Cretin had mercifully carried it back to Arv in one piece. Shamil could tell the big guy was grateful to have it back. It was a minor miracle that they had no trouble crossing the courtyard. All that work to disguise Arv just felt like wasted energy to her now. But she wasn’t about to go pointing that out.

  She exhaled softly as she walked back over to the Howdah with Neyra. They climbed up the sides to the top to check the straps again and as they did, they both glanced down at the now sleeping child. Was she torn from her father, too? Did her mother have to hold her back as he ran into certain death defending them?

  No. NO. Stop it. Don’t feel. Just survive. Shamil had just turned back to her work when she felt Neyra’s hand on her shoulder,

  “I know. It hits deep for me, too.”

  For anyone else in the world, Shamil would’ve snapped back with some sort of quip or witty insult. She would’ve insisted she was fine, and that they didn’t know what they were talkin’ about. But this was Neyra.

  So instead Shamil gave herself a single moment to experience it, letting that grief out in one shuddering breath as she put her hand on Neyra’s,

  “Suppose she’ll be okay?” She asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. She could feel a tear brimming at the corner of each eye, and she fought like hells to keep them from turning to more.

  “She’ll make it,” she said with a small shrug. “Her injuries were minimal.”

  “You know what I mean, Neyra,”

  Neyra took a deep breath and dropped her voice even lower. She squeezed Shamil’s hand with that gentle reassurance that she always seemed to have,

  “That’s up to her, I suppose…”

  Shamil just nodded. Of course it was. The girl would be fine. After all, Shamil went through the same thing, and she was fine. She was great. Shamil was totally okay. Never better.

  “We’ve got this. You know that, right?”

  “No,” she muttered, as she squeezed Neyra’s hand back, “And neither do you.” Shamil looked at Neyra and forced a grin. Feelings hour was over. It was time to get back to work. There was still vermin to kill. And from the looks of it, they were about to head out again.

  “We keep her with us, for the time being, at least,” said Valdora, “She can stay in the Howdah. I trust that’s not a problem, Arv?”

  Arv answered by hoisting the straps back onto his shoulders and giving a crisp salute. Shamil knew he would’ve carried twenty children if it was asked of him. And probably still would, even if nobody asked.

  “Elwin spoke of the servants' corridors, and Zarl has just informed me they are still intact in this portion of the manor. We will move through them as space allows, Elwin and Zarl leading. We need to make our way to the North Wing of the estate. Gods willing, if Lord Nero is still here, he’ll be closer to the audience chamber that’s located there.”

  The squad got in file, and Zarl and Elwin led them to a little doorway that was hidden behind the pantry. Shamil said a silent prayer of thanks that this Lord Nero fellow was so abundantly stupid rich that he could afford servants' corridors that were big enough for her extra large, extra scaly, and extra hairy friends. She wasn’t gonna creep around this place without them right next to her if she could help it.

  “Mind your head, Miss Shamil,” Riza hissed softly at her, and she patted her buns of hair with a sly, sarcastic smile before ducking into the corridor ahead of them. Cheeky little lizard woman. She’d have to get her back for that one later.

  Slowly, they began their descent into the bowels of Lord Nero’s Manor. The small lamps that dotted the hallway were still lit, likely from the preparations for this morning’s chores that were cut so horribly short. As if reading her mind, the child at her feet shuddered in her sleep. Shamil tensed up, fearing that she would wake.

  Thankfully, Neyra ducked to the bottom of the Howdah immediately, softly rubbing the girl’s back. Elivera spared a glance down at the slight commotion and smiled. First at her sister and then at Shamil.

  Shamil saw the fierce determination in her eyes. And, not for the first time, she marveled at how Elle had grown. This wasn’t the feisty little girl who always trailed along behind her and Ney all those years ago. No. This was a fearless warrior who stood ready to lead the charge into any conflict, no matter the cost. Shamil would never actually say it out loud to her face, but she was proud to serve under her command.

  At that moment, a signal came down the line. Rooms ahead. They were going to check them out on their way to the main servant hall. Shamil passed the message back to Hilda, Cretin, and Kaida, who stood at the rear of the line. They nodded up at her and Shamil saw how they tightened their grips on their weapons. She did the same as she peered up the formation and watched Zarl duck into the first room.

  It didn’t take too long at all for him to come hurrying back into the corridor. He had his scarf pulled up and over that long, pointy nose of his. Shamil snickered. It was like a tent on his face. She couldn’t tell what he was saying to Valdora with his mouth covered like that, but soon they were moving on again. She spared a glance for the partially open door as they crept past.

  It stank of stale smoke and charred flesh. The walls were blackened by the soot of a fire that had long since burned out. A heap of charred bodies blocked the door, their joints locked in a gruesome pantomime of their failed escape attempt.

  They walked even further and came to another stop. Shamil was surprised to hear the sounds of gags and heaving from up ahead. Elwin doubled over and wheezed as bile dripped out of her lips. Zarl had his head in his clawed hands and he looked as if he might faint. Even Valdora seemed a little green.

  Then, the stench finally made its way to the Howdah. Arv huffed and gagged as he clumsily tried to adjust his uniform collar to cover his nose. Shamil wrapped her cloak around her face and motioned for Elle and Neyra to do the same.

  “Whatever’s in that room, it’s bad. We’re not going in there. Just keep moving.” Elivera choked. Shamil narrowed her eyes and passed the message along.

  As they crept closer, the stench became completely unbearable. Shamil could finally see the reason, even if it was just a sliver from the still cracked open door. She was glad for the limited view.

  The room was strewn from ceiling to floor with innards and gore. It festered and dripped with congealed blood and rancid ichor. Neyra gagged and vomited off the side of the Howdah, followed closely by Elle. Shamil was pretty sure she could hear Arv hurling, too. And, while she would never admit it, a bit of bile rose in her own throat. She just had the decorum to swallow it back down.

  With some effort, they continued on, making their way further through the walls of Elwin’s childhood home.

  “We’re close to those servants’ quarters, looks like,” Arv muttered and rolled his shoulders, causing the Howdah to sway slightly. Shamil’s fingers twitched around her crossbow as Valdora ushered them through the threshold and into a ‘normal’ hallway. It felt like luxury compared to the cramped walls and ceiling of the hidden corridors. And that was coming from her! She was only just over three feet tall. If she felt this relieved, she couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Arv, Cretin, and Riza. Before she had any longer to consider all the benefits of her small stature, Elwin ran down the hall and threw herself at the latch of a heavy door.

  “Locked!” She shoved at the door with a frustrated huff. “Zarl! Where’s that set of tools…”